Preparations
by BriannaTheStrange
Summary: Spring is here, and Elinor & Fergus prepare the nursery together for the arrival of their first baby—that is, until they are interrupted by their unborn kin. [Oneshot]


It was spring in the land of DunBroch and with the chilling snow nearly melted all the way, the highland air steadily begins warm. Little buds begin to grow and small flowers pop up from the somewhat muddy ground around the castle and surrounding areas, giving the land a light green hue.

Everyone is pleased with the lovely change in the once-bitter weather, especially the king and queen. Warmer weather means less bundling up and smoke in the fireplaces that plagued the castle—and less worrying about the heir Elinor was currently carrying.

Yes, the queen was pregnant. It had been about six months and the couple grew more and more hopeful with each days passing. The kingdom eagerly awaited the arrival of the child, as well—it would be the first under their new king. Though Elinor would like nothing more than to sit herself down and sleep the day away, it was now time for preparations to be made and she appointed herself as overseer in the creation of the child's nursery.

Elinor stood in the nearly empty room. It was a small area, but grand for a nursery. There were several windows large and small that lit up the room. A changing table and a few drawers, among other necessities, had been brought in earlier. The queen held both a quill and piece of parchment in her hands as she watched her husband carry in the wooden cradle.

"-And that will go over there. No. _There_. Not there! _There_! Goodness, Fergus!" she chided with a tap of her foot, "Not by the big window! Closer to the hearth. Do you want the babe to freeze?"

Fergus grunted with the effort as he moved the bit of furniture."'Ere, lass?"

"Aye, right there." She quickly checked off something with her quill. "Next is the…"

"Carpet! The big, fuzzy 'un. I got et right 'ere." He stepped outside momentarily and returned with the carpet rolled neatly under his forearm. The king set it down among stony floor and smoothed it out with his palms before adjusting the cradle accordingly. "Ah, fits like a glove in this room, et does."

Elinor smiled approvingly. "Oh, that's lovely! Nice an' soft, wouldn't you say?" she observed, casting a quick glance at her husband as he kneeled upon the carpeted floor.

"Most definitely! Babby's gonna love rollin' around on this—I can tell." he chuckled, giving it a pat. "Wot else needs bringin' in?"

She hummed somewhat as she gazed over her list. "Not too much at this time. The only thin' we have left at the moment outside the door is the rocking chair. The rest will have to be made or shipped in before the wee lamb arrives." Elinor then strode over to a small table in the corner of the room and set her paper and quill down, letting out a soft sigh as her gaze traveled to the king.

He was still kneeling on the ground, looking at her with his blue eyes wide with wonder and a grin plastered on his face.

Elinor smirked somewhat at his behavior. "Wot?"

"Oh, nothin'," he breathed, twirling his mustache around his finger absentmindedly. "Jus' lookin' at how lovely ye look taeday."

"Please," she huffed softly, crossing her arms over her swollen stomach. "I hardly look anythin' like I used to before this baby started growin',"

Fergus smiled and shook his head as he rose to his feet and approached her. "Oh, lass," he breathed, using a massive but gentle hand to caress his queen's rosy cheek. "You look positively radiant. Always have, always will."

She smiled at him for a moment, squinting her eyes before they slowly looked down upon the floor. "I don't know," she sighed absently as her hand wandered up to his arm and gave it a soft squeeze.

"Wot don't you know?"

"_I don't know_," With that, she leaned forward and set her forehead on his chest. "I just don't feel like myself. None of my dresses fit properly anymore, I eat all these strange things, I feel bloated an' sore, I tire so easily… It's awful."

Fergus moved one hand to her back and began making comforting, circular motions while he used the other to caress her hip. "I'll bet," he chuckled, to which Elinor moaned an annoyed response. "But hey, all this means tha' our baby is growin'. Isn't that wot we want, darlin'?"

A few moments of silence lapsed but Elinor gradually mumbled "More than anything," into his chest. Though she was currently not feeling her best, Fergus knew that she loved their unborn child with all her heart. With a soft chuckle he kissed the top of her head and played with her expertly-weaved braids in one of his hands. "_That's_ my queen,"

Suddenly, he felt her palms lift up and push off of his chest with surprising force. "Elinor?" he questioned with concern filling his voice.

The queen stood in front of him, placing one hand under her distended form. A free, delicate hand then wandered down to the front of her abdomen and she gingerly felt the swollen area underneath the rich fabric. Her teeth were gritted somewhat but a sparkle was growing steadily in her eyes. The queen turned her gaze up to him and offered a cheeky smile.

"Sorry, love," she sighed with a good-humored shake of her head, "Baby is acting up."

Fergus placed a hand to his heart and chuckled softly. "Are they, now?"

"Indeed," she murmured, her face then screwing up into an expression that conveyed discomfort. "Dear…c-could you get that chair? I think I should sit down, an' I don't care to walk to our room at the moment."

He bounced on his toes and snapped his fingers. "Oh, aye, aye!" He scurried out of the nursery and returned with the rocking chair in his hands. The man wandered over to the far corner where his wife stood and carefully set it down beside her.

"Could I 'ave some assistance?" she piped, taking his hand as she backed towards the chair.

"Anythin' fer my love." He held the chair in place so that it would not rock as she levered herself cautiously into it, and used his other hand to gently guide her to it without falling over due to her extra weight.

As she sat herself down on the cushioned seat of the chair, she let out an audible breath. "Thank you, Fergus," she sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes contentedly.

Fergus smiled, "Et's no bother." He then sat down on the ground in front of her, placing both hands to the side of her growing stomach. "Wot are you doin', wee thing?" he cooed, "You botherin' yer mummy, cheeky babe?"

Elinor held a hand to her mouth and giggled quietly at his antics. Oh, how she adored him. He was the kindest, gentlest man she'd ever met. He was so excited for the arrival of their baby, and he made it quite clear that he thought it was a lass. At first the queen was skeptical of him being so certain their child was a girl, but the more she thought about it the more she felt that this growing being within her was, in fact, a daughter. There were no reasoning behind their musings, but Elinor couldn't shake it. This baby was a beautiful girl.

He then rapidly began kissing her stomach and nuzzling his nose gently into the taught fabric of her dress. "Ohhh, silly wee lass! I love youuuu," he sang with glee, pausing to look up at his wife. "Feelin' any better, love?"

"Indeed, thanks to you." She leaned an elbow on the chair and held her head up tiredly with her fist. "I feel as if you're distractin' the wee devil from causing me any harm."

"I do wot I can," He beamed, leaning back somewhat and slowly placing the palm of his hand flush upon her stomach. The king waited several moments, feeling the tiny fluttering that responded to his touch. "Well, love, I think the babby is all done kickin'-" At that same moment, he felt a small yet mighty movement against his palm. He boomed with joyful laughter before gazing at Elinor yet again.

"You spoke too soon," she mumbled, managing a smile despite her discomfort. Kicks certainly did a number on her, especially in her already tired state.

Fergus nodded, kissing her stomach yet again with the utmost tenderness and affection. "Aye. Per'aps if I left the wee one alone with jus' you fer a while, they'd settle down a tad, eh?"

"A novel idea." Her eyes suddenly grew tired and Fergus managed to get to his feet yet again. He went over to the numerous windows and began shutting the shades—though he left one open a bit to allow some light to illuminate the room. He then cast a glance at his lovely Elinor amongst the dark and smiled. Even in the half-light she was positively glowing in her condition. He was truly the luckiest man in the entire world. Everything was falling into place. He had the loveliest wife, the most loyal clan, and to top it all off: he would soon have a baby which Elinor and he would proudly call their own. He sighed with content as he removed a blanket from a nearby drawer and draped it gently over his wife.

"Comfy?" he asked, tucking it in around her. He was careful to avoid her swollen stomach.

"Very." She smiled, tilting her head up for a kiss, to which Fergus more than happily obliged. She leaned back somewhat and looked at him with her brown eyes half-open. "Now…don't let me fall asleep too long. I still 'ave plenty of things to do. Not to mention I need to-"

"You worry too much," he interrupted softly, placing a soft peck on her forehead before tucking a strand of chestnut locks behind her ear. "I'll take care of everythin'. I want you to rest. You have our wee darlin' tae look after. That's your job."

The queen watched him carefully for a moment, studying him thoroughly. Finally she sighed in defeat and nodded, "Alright, then." Elinor felt herself growing very tired as he backed steadily towards the door. "Jus' don't go off gallivantin' for _too_ long."

"As you wish," he hummed, opening the door and making it halfway out. His voice was barely more than a whisper, "I love you, Elinor."

Elinor took in a soft breath, placing both her hands atop her stomach. "I love you, Fergus." She caught sight of his all-too familiar smile as the door gently closed. Looking down, the queen stared warmly at her stomach. She was relieved that her gentle caress did not cause a kick to arise from their child, but instead a pleasing, slight flutter in response to her touch.

As she continued to gaze down at her distended form, she couldn't help a tender smile from spreading over her lips. Her hands already atop her swollen form, she used her palms to gently stroke her stomach with motherly love and care.

Softly the words emanated from her lips, "And I love_ you_,"


End file.
